The Great Cobra
by msahagian
Summary: (Title in progress) The year is 1922. Spencer Wright has just moved to West Beverly Heights, next door to an affluent, party-throwing man known to most as "The Cobra". As Spencer gets to know the man better, the two find themselves unable to stop thinking about each other... Note: This story was first published on Figment under the same title and will be primarily updated there.
1. Chapter 1

There are two sides of Beverly Heights: West and East. I live on the west side.

I guess you could call West Beverly Heights "less flashy" or "more modest". Either description is the polite way of saying "less wealthy than East Beverly Heights". Of course, there's always the exception.

I had lived in West Beverly Heights for less than two weeks-I had yet to meet my next door neighbor, A.K.A., the exception. Even from my side of the fence, the huge swimming pool and water slide could be seen next to the multi-story house. The huge front gates gave way to a beautiful entryway, and beyond that was a mystery to me. During my first few days living here I often wondered what kind of a person owned a house-or should I say mansion-like that. Now I've learned to ignore the curiosity. If the home's owner wanted me to know, they would have introduced themselves.

My sister lives across the water in East Beverly Heights with her husband. I thought of them as I sat in traffic, on my way to visit them for the first time since moving here. It's no secret that my sister and I weren't close anymore. We lost touch after I attended film school in New York. After graduation I stayed in the city for a few years, during which we reestablished communication, but only by occasional letters. Today would be my first time seeing her in person since I was eighteen-seven years ago.

Driving through East Beverly Heights, it was easy to see why it was considered wealthier. Homes twice the size of mine loomed with menacing beauty over my tiny 1920 Chevrolet FB-40. Each had at least two cars in the driveway, and many had horse stables next to the garages. I felt very tiny.

Jessica's house was on the water, which made its white facade gleam even brighter against the blue of the bay behind it. I parked in the four-car driveway, taking the last empty space. I wondered who the red third car belonged to, since Jessica and her husband only have two of their own. She bragged in a letter that her car is white, while her husband's is black. And speak of the devil, there he was. He stood on the front porch, wearing tight pants that show off his calf muscles, a classy red undershirt, and-wait, was that the same letter jacket he wore in high school? I couldn't believe it still fit him, with his muscles having nearly doubled in size since we attended high school together. His blonde hair enveloped the top of his head in curls. He saw me, and waved less than halfheartedly. I took a deep breathe to prepare for whatever awkwardness was about to come, and approached him. "Hello, Kleet."

He clapsed a hand on my shoulder, making my knees nearly buckle beneath the force of his incredible strength. No wonder he was the star quarterback in high school. "Spencer, buddy, good to see you." It didn't take an idiot to tell that he was forcing the words and smile to his lips. We weren't exactly friends in high school. "You like the house? Pretty nice, if I may say so myself. Three stories, and there are horse stables and a swimming pool out back. I'll give you the grand tour later. Come on inside, Jessica's been waiting."

I couldn't tell if he was trying to be polite or if he just wanted to show off. Either way, I followed him inside to the large parlor. Two women were sitting across from each other on couches, laughing and sipping cocktails even though it was only early afternoon. Though I hadn't seen Jessica in years, I recognized her easily. Her long dark hair that she always used to wear in a ponytail now flowed freely across her back. Her green eyes sparkled as she laughed. The white dress she wore cut off just below the knee as she crossed her legs. The two looked up when Kleet and I walked in, and Jessica smiled.

"Spencer! How have you been?" She stood and met me with a warm hug.

"Pretty good, and you?"

"Never better."

Kleet took my hat and jacket while Jessica introduced me to her friend, who still sat on the couch sipping her drink. She must have been the owner of the blue car, and based on the car's make and model it was easy to guess that she too lived in East Beverly Heights. She wore a purple jacket with a fluffy fur hood over a light white sundress. A large necklace sat on her large chest, which I immediately felt guilty for looking at. Most impressive was her auburn hair that flowed even longer than Jessica's. "Spencer, this is Mallory. Mallory, my older brother, Spencer."

We exchanged greetings and shook hands before Kleet suggested that we eat out on the back porch. Dinner between the four of us wasn't quite as awkward as I had anticipated, and I speculated that it was because Mallory's presence lightened the mood. Maybe that's why Jessica and Kleet invited her. Current events was the hot topic more than catching up. Kleet went on and on about horse racing and his favorite sports teams. I was glad to see that Mallory, like me, seemed to care less. Once during the meal the telephone rang, and Kleet went to answer it. Jessica excused herself to use the restroom and check on her infant daughter upstairs, who I had no clue existed. It was odd that she hadn't mentioned a daughter in any of her letters. With only the two of us remaining, Mallory asked me how I liked West Beverly Heights, if I was adjusting well, what the other houses were like.

"Modest, as far as mansions go. Except for the one next door to me, which may be the most extravagant house I've ever laid eyes on."

"A house that large in West Beverly Heights?" Mallory paused. "Wait, it doesn't have a swimming pool and water slide, does it?"

"Yes."

She laughed. "That house, Spencer, would belong to The Cobra!"

"The Cobra?"

She smiled. "If you haven't heard of him yet, you will. He's known for having the biggest and best parties on this side of the bay."

Before I could open my mouth to say anything else, Kleet returned. "That was Lolo on the telephone," he explained. Turning to me he said, "I'd love for you to meet her sometime, Spencer."

"I'm sorry, but, who?"

"Lolo is Kleet's lover," Mallory explained in a hushed voice. "His mistress."

I didn't know what to say. I wasn't even sure if I could speak. Not only was my brother-in-law not making any effort to hide the fact that he was cheating on my sister, but he wanted me to meet his mistress? Did he have no morals? Mallory didn't seem upset, either, and she was Jessica's friend. Maybe this was normal for the upper class. As shocked as I was, I certainly didn't want to get on Kleet's bad side. Not while those huge forearms were in punching distance. "I'd love to meet her," I forced myself to say.

Kleet smiled. "Excellent," he said, just as Jessica returned to the table. Kleet put his arm around her. I bit my lip and looked away from him, hoping my rage wasn't visible on my face.

Three drinks later and a tour of the massive house later, the sun was setting as I put on my jacket and hat while bidding the three farewell. I promised Jessica I'd keep in touch and that I'd see her soon. By the time I returned to my home in West Beverly Heights, the sun has completely disappeared below the horizon. Lights from the East Beverly Heights houses twinkled across the bay, like stars suspended between the sky and water. I watched them sparkle from my yard, lost in their beauty and wonder. I felt alone in the world, like nothing and no one existed other than the lights and my own self. It was an incredible feeling. Two weeks I've lived here and I'd never experienced this magnificent wonder before.

Footsteps from behind the fence of the large house next door snapped me from my trance. Peering over it, I saw the shadow of a man enter the back door of the mansion. Thanks to Mallory, I now knew who the man was, though this was the first time I had seen him.

I was not alone gazing at the lights. The Cobra was watching, too.


	2. Chapter 2

The day came that I had to meet Lolo, Kleet's mistress. I had been dreading it since I first agreed to it at their house, which was now nearly two weeks ago.

Every night since then, I observed The Cobra leave his house, stare at the lights across the bay, then go back inside. Through the thick darkness, I couldn't determine much about his appearance, only that he seemed to be tall and rather lanky. I never approached or called out to him. I had this irrational, innate fear that doing so would upset some sort of balance. It was as if he were an exotic creature and I the scientist, knowing that I should only observe and let him be.

Of course, he was far less exotic on Saturday nights.

I learned quickly that those were his party nights. Mallory hadn't been lying when she said The Cobra threw huge parties. Each week the street filled with cars of his guests. I could hear talking, laughing, music, and splashing from the swimming pool until very early Sunday morning. Most of the cars didn't disappear until the sun rose.

After the first party, my curiosity for The Cobra was rekindled. I had never attended one of those parties (not surprising; I still hadn't met the man) yet I longed to experience what one was like. I wanted to know what kept the hundreds of party guests coming back every weekend.

Kleet honked twice before he had even pulled into my driveway that was embarrassingly smaller than his. The loud noise snapped me out of my trance, and I hurried into the car. Kleet didn't say anything more than "Hello" as we drove out of Beverly Heights and into the rural farmland that sat between our neighborhood and the city. I too said nothing, even as we pulled over and stopped in front of a run-down, dirty-looking car repair garage. Now Kleet spoke again, but only to tell me to stay in the car. He entered the garage and returned ten minutes later with a blonde clinging to his large bicep. She giggled and fidgeted with her rather short turquoise dress as Kleet opened the car door for me. He introduced her as Lolo Calorie; we shook hands. I still thought Jessica was prettier.

There was a train station not too far from the garage where we parked and took the train into the city. Lolo and Kleet sat together. I felt like a third wheel. I didn't have very much under my belt when it came to relationships; nothing serious, anyways. Everyone told me I just haven't met the right girl yet. At this point, I was beginning to doubt that there was a girl who was right for me.

I was relieved when Kleet told me as we got off the train that he had invited other friends to join us for the night. I should have guessed that any friends of Kleet wouldn't be the type of people I like to associate with. Maybe I was disappointed because none of the friends were Mallory, who, I'll reluctantly admit, I was secretly hoping would be invited.

No, the friends who met us at the apartment he bought for Lolo and himself in the city (thankfully he didn't see the disgust on my face when he told me) were nothing like Mallory. She was pleasant. They... well, to put it kindly, they were some of the worst people I'd ever met.

There were four of them: a young, low-thirties couple who lived in the city and a twenty-something woman who wore so much makeup she looked thirty-five. The last looked more like a bird wearing a toupee than a man. His was the only name I caught: Mr. Ponzi. I quickly learned from their bragging that all four were of the same social status as Kleet. The husband went on and on about his four summer homes and how it's so difficult to find a good butler these days. The young woman made it quite clear that money was the primary thing she looked for in a man. After we had each had a few drinks, the mockery began. And it didn't stop. They mocked the government, the working middle-class, my hat, foreign policies, and then they somehow ended up on the subject of The Cobra. That was when I actually started listening.

"His last party had the biggest turnout yet," the woman said in between sips of wine, the glass smeared with bright red lipstick. "I was there, you know." A smug smile.

"Really?" the other woman said, smiling to her husband. "Someone told me he had elephants this time!"

"He did," the woman grinned. A lie. If there had been elephants being paraded into my next door neighbor's mansion I think I would have noticed. Still, I didn't doubt that he could afford them. Once again I felt that old curiosity bubbling up inside of me.

"How did he get so rich?"

Everyone looked at me. They had probably forgotten I was still present; this was the first thing I had said in over an hour. Even Kleet appeared surprised. I didn't care, as long as someone answered me. Finally, Mr. Ponzi did.

"There are lots of rumors about that. No one is completely sure which, if any are true. I side with those who believe he obtained his wealth from some less than legal business deals during the war."

"I heard he was a mobster," Lolo said from the couch where she was cuddling next to Kleet.

Mr. Ponzi nodded. "That's another one going around." The man had a slight lisp when he spoke and his eyes darted around the room. I wasn't sure if I trusted what he was saying. This was the first time seeing The Cobra cast in a negative light.

"Either way, he's not a good man." Kleet paused to take a drink. "He's not like the rest of us. His money comes from a questionable source."

"He's different in a good way, though," the woman said. "I find it rather charming."

There was no more talk of The Cobra for the rest of the night. I wasn't sure if I was glad or not. I was intrigued by the man, and for whatever reason felt a strong urge to defend my neighbor. It stung a deep part of me to hear these horrible people talk about him as if he were some criminal. I drank away their words.

I couldn't say what we happened after that. All I remember is waking up alone on the train back to Beverly Heights, the time being four o'clock in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

When I opened my mailbox Thursday morning, the last thing I was expecting to find was an invitation to The Cobra's party that Saturday night. Yet there it was, written on expensive card stock in beautiful calligraphy.

_"Mr. William Joseph Cobra would like to invite Mr. Spencer Wright to attend an evening party at his mansion this Saturday, June 24 at eight o'clock p.m."_

At first I didn't recognize the name. I had never heard anyone refer to The Cobra by his full name. I wondered briefly whether or not he knew people called him "The Cobra", and whether or not he liked it. Jesus, I really _couldn't_ stop thinking about him. Maybe if I met him on Saturday my thirst for knowledge would be quenched...

The next few days came and went. Suddenly it was seven-thirty Saturday night, and I realized I didn't know what the dress code was. Never in my life had I had such a hard time deciding what to wear. Why did I want to so badly impress The Cobra? I ended up throwing on a black hat and jacket over a white shirt so I wouldn't be too late, though all I had to do was walk across the lawn.

I had no idea what to expect. All I heard about these parties were rumors from not-so-reliable sources. The only opinion I trusted was Mallory's, and all she said was that the parties were huge. It was only a few minutes past eight and already the house and lawn were packed with people. They were drinking, dancing, smoking, laughing, swimming-you name it. Weaving in and out of expensive cocktail dresses and jackets that probably cost two paychecks, I felt very out of place. Even though I had been invited like all then other guests, I felt like I didn't belong. Uneasy, I made my way to the pool deck to sit down. I didn't want to draw any attention to myself, and I didn't see anyone I knew. That is, until I emerged from the crowd around the pool deck's buffet table.

"Spencer!" Mallory waved to me from a table by the pool, empty except for her. I smiled and quickened my pace to sit next to her. "It's so good to see you again!" I felt myself blush as she gave me a polite kiss on the cheek. "What do you think of the party?"

"Well, it's certainly extravagant." It was no lie. What she had said back at Kleet's house when we first met was true. Several huge fountains were set up across the lawn, and fireworks were going off on the other side of the mansion. At least three live bands were playing in different rooms, and there was enough food to feed all of West Beverly Heights, plus leftovers. However, there was a distinct lack of elephants. No surprise.

"Yes, it is. You want some champagne? I can get you some." When I declined, she continued.  
The Cobra certainly knows how to throw a good party." Pausing, she took a sip of her own champagne, looking around. Suddenly she smiled. "And speak of the devil, there he is."

She nodded towards the middle of the crowd of people. I turned, wanting desperately to get my first look at the man who had been my neighbor for nearly a month as well as the object of my now-constant curiosity.

My eyes missed him at first. Mallory pointed him out for me. It was no wonder I couldn't pick him out; he looked nothing like I had imagined. I had been expecting someone with at least ten years on me. The man walking onto the pool deck looked like he only had two or three, at most. He wore a dark green suit with a matching hat. His black hair was slicked back, yet he didn't look like a sleazy salesman. The look worked for him. He was tall and lean, definitely the man I had seen staring out at the lights every night. I noticed his eyes were dim, almost sad as he made his way through the crowd with a small smile, shaking hands as people greeted him in passing. He was handsome.

It took me a moment to realize he was approaching Mallory and me. I felt as if he was some famous celebrity at his parties, and I was a fan who got foolishly nervous in his presence. I tried hard to appear as calm as Mallory.

"Mallory! I'm glad you could make it." She kissed him on the cheek like she did to me as he greeted her. His voice was soft and rhythmic. Hypnotic. I froze when his gaze fell on me. "And you must be Spencer, from next door. I see you got my invitation. Mallory told me about you, I'm so happy you were able to make it tonight. He smiled, and I could tell from the slight twinkle that appeared in his eyes that it was genuine. He looked even more handsome when he smiled.

"Thank you for the invite," I managed to say as I shook his hand. It was soft and warm, I noticed. Comforting. "This is quite the party, Mr. Cobra. Or, may I call you William? Or do you go by William Joseph?" I really wished my mouth would shut up.

But he laughed. "It's Billy Joe, but my friends call me Billy. You can too, since I'd like to consider you a friend."

His grin was contagious, and I found myself smiling too. "Thanks, Billy. I'd like to consider you a friend as well."

"I'm going to get some more champagne," Mallory said, standing up. "You can take my seat, Billy."

"Don't mind if I do."

As Billy sat down I quickly wiped my mouth on my sleeve to make sure there were no embarrassing remnants of my dinner on my face. Billy looked up at me and smiled, his eyes a little brighter. "I've been curious about you, bro."

"Curious?" I was caught off-guard. After all,_I_ had an intense curiosity about _him_. "About me?"

"Mhmm," he nodded. "You noticed the lights across the bay, too. Beautiful, aren't they?"

"Yes," I blurted, both surprised and embarrassed that he had seen me that night, since he probably also noticed me watching him.

"And you're also pretty friendly with that man, Kleet? I've seen you leave your house in his car with him."

"You know him?" I asked, choosing not to comment on the fact that Billy has been watching me.

He began to nod, then shook his head. "I know his wife. Well, I _knew_ her. Not so much anymore." His faded eyes were as dim as when he first entered the pool deck. I wanted to know what he was getting at. So I didn't mention that Kleet's wife was my little sister.

"How'd you know her?" I tried to make the question sound natural. It seemed to work.

He rested his elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand like a mopey teenager. "We dated briefly when she was in college. I lived nearby at the time. Ever since, I've been wanting to...reconnect."

I always got uncomfortable when I heard men talking about dating my sister. I had an awful flashback to high school when Jessica and Kleet had their first date. They ended it after that, of course never expecting to date again and end up getting married. As Billy sat, frowning, dreaming about my sister, I had to say something. "She's my sister," I blurted. He looked up, no longer bored. "Jessica is my sister."

"What?" Billy looked like he was trying to recall some long lost memory from the recesses of his brain. "That doesn't make sense. Her maiden name was Wright and your last name is... Oh..." He looked stunned. The guy was rich and handsome, I'd give him that. But he was certainly lacking when it came to common sense. A wicked grin spread across Billy's face faster than a flame consuming the oxygen around it. "So _you're_ the brother."

"She told you about me?"

He shrugged, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. "She mentioned you a couple times. I remember seeing lots of photographs at your parents' house, though." I struggled to recall if my parents' photographs represented me positively. "You were a pretty good-looking teenager, from what I remember, broton."

I chuckled, playful. "So you're saying I'm not good-looking now?"

Billy laughed as well, and responded "I never said that, brorrito."

"You sure do say a lot of bro puns."

"They're sort of my catchphrase...brotein shake."

Then he was looking right at me, right into my eyes. His were like tiny black lakes, masking what hid beneath them. I wanted to dive and know what lurked beneath the surface. I was already in them, lost in the depths of those eyes. Then there were more fireworks, and someone calling Billy's name. And just like that, it ended. He apologized for leaving so abruptly and shook my hand again. This time his hand felt even warmer than before, maybe because I let mine linger in his.

"I'll see you soon, broseph. That's a promise."


	4. Chapter 4

Billy Joe Cobra kept his promise.

He was knocking at my front door around midday on Sunday. Groggy with traces of sleep still on my face, I let him in. He sported a toothy grin. "So?" he asked, eyebrows arched, "Was that the most brodacious party you've ever been to or what?"

I rubbed my eye. "What does that even mean?"

"You know, brodacious! Synonymous with bromazing?"

"Ah," I nodded, pretending to understand. I doubted Billy fell for it, but he continued on anyways.

"Whaddaya say we go do something _fun_!"

"You and me?"

"Of course!"

"Not to sound rude, but I figured you'd rather go do something fun with my sister."

Billy laughed and clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Come on, brojangles! I said I'd like to _reconnect_ with her. That doesn't include dating again. That ship sailed a loooooong time ago."

"So you're saying this is a date?"

The smile vanished and his eyes grew wide. He must have realized what he just said. "No, no! Of course not! I mean, unless you want it to be?" He raised an eyebrow and flashed his pearly whites.

"Um, I'll politely decline." Billy frowned. "For the date part, I mean. I wouldn't mind going on an outing." I offered a small smile. He took it.

The huge smile back on his face, he cheered "Great! We can take my car!" Before I could argue (which he probably anticipated I'd do), he grabbed my wrist and led me out the door. He was literally bouncing with excitement as he brought me into his garage. "Ta-da!" His grin took up most of his face as he held his arms out to present his car.

The guy had good taste. A 1922 Rolls-Royce sat before me, looking brand new. "The color is...nice..." I started, not exactly a huge fan of turquoise cars.

Billy was apparently immune to sarcasm. "Thanks! It's my favorite color!" He opened the passenger side door and held it. I could feel myself blush as I muttered my thanks and slid in the seat. I looked the other way, pretending to admire the steering wheel, in hopes that he wouldn't notice. He'd be the type to call me out on it, too. In an instant he was in the driver's seat, ready to go. Before I could comment on the alarming speed at which he pulled out of the garage, we were on the road.

"So, um, where are we headed?" I asked, pushing my wind-whipped hair out of my eyes.

"Don't know, exactly," Billy said, grinning. "Guess we'll know when we get there."

We spent most of the late morning driving around in Billy's car, while he acted as a sort of tour guide. "Ooh! Look over there! That's where I bought my third car! And see that mansion, Spencer? Isn't that pool brodacious?"

I liked driving around. It was pleasant; a lot more relaxing than what I had imagined Billy had planned for the day. And I guess using gas wasn't much of an issue for him. The twenty-five cents per gallon it cost for gasoline was probably nothing in his eyes. I felt a tiny shard of envy pierce through me.

When Billy's stomach audibly grumbled, we knew it was time to stop for lunch. He stopped at the first restaurant he saw. I could tell just from looking at the exterior that I didn't bring enough cash in my wallet to cover a meal here. I told Billy so, suggesting that perhaps we should try elsewhere.

"Nah, don't worry about it, Bro White. I got you covered."

"What? No Billy, you don't have to...I mean, I'll just order soup or something...please, don't worry about it!"

"Nope. Sorry, bro. I'm paying for you whether you want me to or not."

"But Billy-"

"No buts." Suddenly he smiled a very wide smile. "Besides, I can use this to guilt you into going out with me again."

Great. I could imagine it now: Billy using the "Remember that time I bought you lunch?" excuse to try to convince me to do anything. The problem is, it would.

Then again, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing...

I shook my head to push the thought away and return to the present. "Fine. You win." I grinned. "I guess I'm stuck paying next time then, huh?" The words came out before I could censor them. Just like that, I agreed to have a "next time".

We laughed our way through most of lunch. Billy had a knack for telling hilarious stories. Every time I thought I had completely run out of laughter, he'd manage to pull another chuckle out of me. And somehow, I had the same effect on him.

When the waitress brought the check over to our booth, Billy began counting out money to pay for our lunch. I sunk back into my seat, still feeling guilty about not paying, especially when I saw the multi-digit total-then again, the majority of the bill came from Billy's request for an extra bowl of smooth peanut butter to go along with his club sandwich. Suddenly, Billy let out a yelp that sounded more like a puppy wincing than a twenty-seven year old man. His eyes darted around the restaurant. He looked like he was searching for a window to jump out of. He suddenly whispered "Cover me, bro!" and began to slide his way under the table.

Before I could ask just what the hell he was doing, our table fell under darkness. I looked up and found the shadow's owner, a large man wearing a jet black suit, standing next to our table. "Billy Joe Cobra," he said in a deep voice. "It's been a while since I last saw you. What, exactly, are you doing?"

Billy, who was halfway under the table when the man spoke, quickly tried to pull himself back into his seat and ended up hitting his head on the bottom of the table. Rubbing the back of his head, he answered "Oh, you know, just dropped a dollar under the table. He smiled his toothy smile, but there was no light in his eyes. I had to say, though, he certainly did not look ugly in that pose.

It was impossible to determine if the man bought it or not. "That's just like you to not let even a dollar escape your penny-pinching grasp."

The three of us waited in silence for a minute. Then Billy's eyes fell on me. "Oh! Um, this is my good friend, Spencer Wright," he said to the man. Wow. Within one day of meeting him I had become his "good friend". I knew better than to argue it now. "Spencer, this is an old co-worker of mine, Mr.-"

"I was his higher-up," the man interrupted, extending his huge, brick-like hand for me to shake. His handshake felt like stone; nowhere near as warm as Billy's. "Don't let him tell you that he and I were equals when it came to work. We were not."

"Right... Anyway, what are you doing in town?" Billy gave me a look that clearly read "We need to get the hell out of here."

"Just taking care of some business," the man, whose name I never got, huffed. He leaned forward, closer to Billy. "You know, Mr. Cobra, it's not too late for you to come back and join us again."

The look in Billy's eyes became quite a bit more hostile. He leaned in too, so he and the man were nearly nose to nose. "I told you. I'm done with that life now. I'm not coming back. So do me a favor and stop asking."

The harshness of Billy's words scared me. I had never heard him speak like that before. He had practically snarled each syllable.

Thankfully, the words had Billy's desired effect. The man stood up straight again. "Whatever you say, Mr. Cobra. Just remember, our door is always open." He turned and began to strut away from the table, saying "Take care. You too, Mr. Wright."

"It was a pleasure meeting you," I called, but the man was already out the door. It was a good thing, too; not even Billy believed what I had said to be true. A small smile crept back onto his face and a tiny twinkle returned to his eyes. "I'm proud of you," I said. "You didn't use a single bro pun throughout that entire conversation."

"Well for one thing, brofessor, that dude is _not_ my bro." He began to slide out of the booth. "And second, I say we get out of here before that toolbox comes back."

I agreed. "And am I allowed to ask who that guy was?"

Billy's lips pressed into a thin line. "Later, bro," was all he said. We climbed into his car and took what Billy called "the scenic route"-in reality, he had just got us lost for a good hour-back to West Beverly Heights. Not another word was said about the man in the restaurant.


	5. Chapter 5

After five consecutive days of going on outings together, The Cobra invited me to his mansion.

I'll be honest; when he invited me I assumed he would be having another party. Nope. Just me and Billy. Alone in his three-story mansion. Well, alone except for the butlers.

Don't get me wrong; I really enjoyed our, what Billy called, "quality bro time". But it was starting to get a bit awkward for me. Whenever he did something goofy, I'd notice how adorable he was. When he smiled, I'd always notice how handsome he was. And every time he laughed, I felt something melt inside of me. Each day I spent with him, it got worse. It was like he had a spell over me.

We swam in his pool that night, then ended up in the hot tub with a third round of drinks in our hands. Billy took a sip, sighed with satisfaction, and leaned back in the hot tub. Tilting his head, he looked out at the lights across the water. He smiled. "Man, those lights get me every time."

I followed his gaze and stared out at them too. They were just as beautiful and magical as the first night, glistening over the dark water. "Those are the houses in East Beverly Heights, aren't they?"

"Mhm." A foreign look took over Billy's face. It was neither a smile nor a frown. His eyes were a thousand miles away.

"Billy..." I awkwardly shifted my position in the hot tub, sitting up straighter. His face gave no sign that he heard me; he produced a quiet "mmm" noise. "Why do you like those lights?"

His face remained placid. Only his lips moved. "They're captivating."

"But...why?"

Billy sighed. His shoulders relaxed and he sunk a little deeper into the hot tub. "Look at them, Spence. From out here, they could be anything you imagine. Anywhere, too. Present...or past. Do you get what I'm saying, brometheus? They could be a million sparkling diamonds, or all the constellations in the sky, or the lights of city, or...or...a sold-out concert..." Another sigh. "Anything."

In the silence, Billy's words hung heavy in the steamy air above us. Maybe it was the alcohol speaking, maybe it wasn't. Either way, the words seemed to have a presence of their own. I spoke only after I had found my voice again. "City lights, maybe. I don't see a sold-out concert, though," I chuckled. My attempt at lightening the mood failed. Billy frowned.

"I guess it depends on how you look at it," he said quietly. "I see the stage lights, shining in your eyes as you look out over the crowd, squinting through the spotlights as you find your fingering on your guitar, and..." He froze suddenly, and then shook his head. When he looked back over at me, he wore a tiny grin, "Sorry. I sort of got all rambley there for a minute, brofessor." His eyes were still distant.

"Billy..." I began, but again I couldn't find the words to say. He still knew what I wanted to ask.

"Alright. Yeah. You really should know." He finished his drink and stared down into the bubbling water. "I've heard the rumors about me. They think I scammed and lied my way to wealth. I want you to know that I didn't." He hesitated a moment before continuing. "Spencer, that man we saw in the restaurant the other day used to be my manager. Back when...when I was a jazz superstar."

"You're a jazz musician?" Up until he started talking about the stage lights tonight I would never have guessed it.

"I _was_ a jazz _superstar_, broletariat." His eyes lingered once again on the lights across the water. "Believe me, it was great. I loved it. The tour buses, the screaming fans, my name up in lights... But after a while, the limelight starts to drain you. You feel empty and tired and lonely. I had been in that business for years. So I finally decided to retire, about a year ago."

I did the math. He would have been in his very early twenties when he rose to fame. "It must have been difficult, starting so young. I can't imagine."

Billy grinned. "Yeah, but it really was a lot of fun. Still, I do enjoy the humble lifestyle I chose to live now."

I snorted. "You call this humble?" I gestured to the towering mansion behind us.

He shrugged his shoulders, then relaxed them and leaned back against the hot tub wall. He twirled his drink around in his glass. "Once again, bro, it's all in how you look at it."

"Well the way I see it, you can't get enough of being the center of attention, " I laughed. "If you didn't like being in the spotlight, you wouldn't live in a house like this. Or throw those insane parties."

He grinned a little wider. His eyes had returned to the present, and they were bright again. "Maybe so, maybe so. You do bring up a very good point, my dear Spencer." He took a sip of his drink. "Which reminds me, you still have yet to receive the grand tour of Casa de Cobra!" In a split second he was out of the hot tub with a towel over his shoulders, grinning wide.

"Now? Billy, I don't have a whole year to spare."

"Oh come on, Spence. If we're quick we'll finish the tour within the month!"

"I don't really have a choice here, do I?"

"Nope."

"None at all?"

"Zero percent."

"Alright," I sighed, defeated. I climbed out of the hot tub and grabbed one of the "BJC" monogrammed towels. "Show me your mansion, make me jealous."

There was no question that I was joking. Billy put his arm around my shoulder as we walked across the pool deck and towards the house. I could tell from his voice that the smile on his face was quite large. "Bromigo, I plan on making you_ glow_ with envy."

I can't say for sure whether or not I glowed, but the tour certainly did make me a tad envious of my new friend. The main entry hall was almost the size of my entire house. Huge framed pictures of Billy playing his jazz guitar on stage hung on the walls; a tribute to his past lifestyle. He showed me his recording studio, his huge kitchen (fully stocked with smooth, not chunky, peanut butter), his "freaky tiki" room (complete with a waterfall), and finally the master bedroom. The room was only accessible through an elevator. I didn't even know people could have elevators in their houses. But it seemed that Billy never ceased to surprise me.

He skipped into the bedroom and flopped onto the bed. "Real Chinese silk," he said, rubbing his hands over the comforter. "Softest material you've ever felt. Come and see."

I sat next to him on the bed and pet the bed. He wasn't lying. Sleeping on the thing must be heavenly. Billy lay back on the bed and rested his head in his hands. He playfully kicked my foot with his until I copied his reclined position. Lying next to me on his ultra-soft bed, Billy sighed.

"You know, Spence, you're one of the only people I've met who like me for me, and not my money."

"Money's not really all that important to me," I admitted. "Besides, filthy rich or not, you're a great guy."

"You too."

The silence weighed down on us. That's when I started to feel the alcohol kick in. Everything began to blur and there was a continual buzzing noise in my ear. Billy said something but I didn't hear him. "What?" I asked. "What?"

"You're gonna make me say it a third time? Wow, you must love hearing me compliment you. Alright. I said, you're really cute when you're drunk."

"Oh...thanks."

"I mean, I think you're pretty cute when you're sober, too. But you know."

"I think you're rather handsome yourself. Sober and drunk."

He chuckled quietly. "Tell me something I don't know."

Things after that got sort of fuzzy. I could remember bits and pieces: Billy's grin here, my snarky remark there. The feel of the Chinese silk comforter on my bare skin. Billy's hair in my hands, and mine in his. Then nothing.

When I opened my eyes, I felt like I was lying on a cloud. I was sore and disoriented, Sitting up a little too fast and feeling a rush of nausea, the room came into focus. The sunlight from the huge window hurt my eyes, so I squinted against my headache, which was pounding like a drum. The cold air made me shiver, and when I looked down I realized why: I was completely naked. I found my swim suit from last night, discarded on the floor next to Billy's. _Billy's._That could only mean... I turned my head to face the man next to me, still snoozing. I didn't need to lift the covers. The blankets exposed his bare chest and pooled just below his hips. He too was naked.

Now my mind was racing and my head was spinning fast, neither of which were helping my hangover. I took a couple deep breaths and tried to focus on the only thing I knew for sure. Of course, that was what made my head spin so fast. The only thing I knew for sure was that I had slept with Billy Joe Cobra.


End file.
